Walk Away
When you hold me, to shake me awake, And not even the slightest effort I make, That is when you should realise, the more I dream, That much longer our relationship will take to redeem. When you feel me, throbbing
Ten Percent
Often, the stories we hear from unfortunate brothers are the same, Stories of loss, stories of failure to keep ahead in the game, Whatever their story, all that seems to change is the name, The rest is simply different shades,
Thirsty River
From a tiny spout, it slowly begins to take form, Filled drop by drop, from the contributions of a storm, Every single memory, every moment, a part of the deluge, And when you cross the banks, they have no refuge.
Petunias
Flowering by the roadside, beside the softest footfall, Towering before you, along the lengths of many a wall, Violets, pinks, whites, blues, more colours than you can call, And yet, seen and unknown, like the spring in every fall. The
Rain It Will
All activities have ceased, but the dust refuses to settle, As if in deference to every hard-working man’s mettle, Sadly the hard work is no longer worth its own sweat, But dust is the only thing these sons of failure